


The Very Bones of You

by sad_bi_cowboy



Series: ST Bingo 2020 [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Broken Bond, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_bi_cowboy/pseuds/sad_bi_cowboy
Summary: Post getting fished out of San Francisco Bay, Jim can't quite believe it all....Written to fill the "Reincarnation" square on my Bingo Card
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: ST Bingo 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905787
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	The Very Bones of You

When Spock asked him later - much later, too much later - Jim was truthful. He was too old to be anything but. And in any case, Spock would have found the answer for himself soon enough; a marriage bond is funny like that.

_ How were you? _

This had been asked with a certain amount of caution. Spock knew that Jim did not want to talk about the interim between his death,  _ fal-tor-pan _ , and their rebonding anymore than was necessary, but he had neglected the human notion of catharsis. 

He had not been well. 

It hadn’t been immediate, which was the funny thing. It had taken a day or so, as the  _ Enterprise _ limped home after transferring David and Saavik to the  _ Grissom _ . When it finally settled in, he had broken his hand nearly punching a dent in the hard metal bulkhead of his quarters. It had hit him like shock from a plasma conduit, bowling him over and making his chest  _ hurt _ . 

He didn’t even go to sickbay for hours after, choosing instead to let the physical pain to ground him as his mental pain had rendered him nearly catatonic on the bunk made for two. Bones eventually had overridden his lock after he hadn’t shown up to dinner. Jim had spent the rest of the voyage in a fugue state, until the shock of Bones’ breakdown and the loss of his ship had brought him out of it. 

The numbness had become physical pain soon enough, settling into a dull throb behind his temples and feeling like all of his worst migraines combined. Sarek, bless him, had done something to soothe the broken bond during their meld, dulling the immediate ache and letting him have his wits together for the duration of the mission to Genesis. 

The universe had taunted him, taking Spock and giving him David, and then taking David and returning the  _ katra _ -less shell of Spock, of his  _ T’hy’la _ . Even after the  _ fal-tor-pan _ , with Spock  _ miraculously  _ alive and breathing and speaking not two feet away from him, the universe taunted him. For three months, it was almost worse than Spock being dead, because his bondmate was so, so near him, but Jim could not touch, could not fall into a meld that felt like coming home, could not say  _ I love you _ . 

Spock had told him not to grieve, not to mourn, but oh, how he had mourned during those three months. He mourned for his son, for his ship, for his crew. He mourned for Spock most of all, for the loss of memories they shared, for the warm, fuzzy feeling of their bond in his head, for the sheer  _ intimacy _ of it all. 

~~~~~~

_ I’m sorry, my love, I’m so sorry. The last thing you asked of me, and I couldn’t do it.  _

_ Jim... _

_ ~~~~~~ _

Now, Spock was wrapped around him, a heavy, warm weight at his back, their legs entwined and fingers threaded together. Their bond thrummed in his head, warmth spreading down to the tips of his toes as feedback flowed through every point they touched.

Jim could hardly believe it. He had seen Spock die, seen the lights go out in his eyes, felt their bond snap, and yet here he was. Alive.  _ So _ alive. Warm and breathing and moving.  _ Loving _ . There was so much love, Jim practically ached with it. It filled his chest and his throat and his head and made him dizzy.

He could hardly believe it. 

Rain was a gentle tapping on the glass as they lay wrapped in each other, breathing each other in. 

Somewhere past the Golden Gate, a humpback whale sang his love song. 

~~~~~~

_ Do not stand at my grave and weep;  _

_ I am not there. I do not sleep. _

_ I am a thousand winds that blow.  _

_ I am the diamond glints on snow. _

_ I am the sunlight on ripened grain. _

_ I am the gentle autumn rain.  _

_ When you awaken in the morning’s hush _

_ I am the swift uplifting rush  _

_ Of quiet birds in circled flight. _

_ I am the soft stars that shine at night. _

_ Do not stand at my grave and cry; _

_ I am not there. I did not die.  _

_ \- Mary Elizabeth Fry _

**Author's Note:**

> That poem...it hits, it really does. Also, no one knows for sure if Fry wrote it but that seems to be the general consensus.


End file.
